


Chevrolet

by jvo_taiski



Category: The Outsiders (1983), The Outsiders - All Media Types, The Outsiders - S. E. Hinton
Genre: Blowjobs, Intercrural Sex, M/M, Pretty much just porn, Smut, against the hood of a car, almost public indecency, is that underage? fuck knows, ponyboy is 17, proceed at your discretion
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-22
Updated: 2020-12-22
Packaged: 2021-03-11 02:56:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,207
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28227999
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jvo_taiski/pseuds/jvo_taiski
Summary: “Your big brothers know what you can do with that mouth?"or, Steve gets a blowjob against the hood of his car and Ponyboy is surprisingly experienced
Relationships: Ponyboy Curtis/Steve Randle
Comments: 1
Kudos: 51





	Chevrolet

**Author's Note:**

> because for sure you can read pony's crush on steve if you squint (he doesn't hate him; not really)

“Your big brothers know what you can do with that mouth? They know what you’ve been up to?”

“Nah,” says Ponyboy. He looks coy kneeling between Steve’s legs, grin sly when he lets Steve’s cock slide out from between his lips and his grey-green eyes hooded and hot when he glances up from between his eyelashes.

This is all kinds of wrong, and Steve fucking knows that, but for some reason, that makes it even hotter. Sure, the kid is seventeen now, but he’s still messing around with _his best friend’s kid brother,_ and it’s wrong and dangerous but so, so good—

It’s against every single unwritten moral code but fuck it. Steve can’t bring himself to care that he’s for sure going to hell.

“Goddamn,” mutters Steve, letting his head fall back and his eyes flutter closed—there’s no way he’s gonna come anything other than embarrassingly quick. Although thinking about it, that would probably be more convenient for Ponyboy. And upon further reflection, it would probably be beneficial for the both of them if they didn’t get caught.

Ponyboy gives the underside of his cock a long, slow lick, deliberately teasing. His voice comes out casual as you please, as if he’s discussing something over a table like a civilised person and not like he’s kneeling in front of Steve’s souped-up Chevy. He draws that filthy tongue back into his mouth and rolls it around his teeth like he’s sampling the taste before speaking again. “Y’know, Steve, I would say leave my older brothers out of this, but I bet you’re imagining it’s Sodapop between your legs right now, huh?”

Steve’s breath hitches when Pony gives his cock a slow tug—he’s still staring at him out of those big green eyes, more sinful than he ever could’ve imagined on the guy he used to consider both a kid and a tagalong. Steve’s only taken his head out of his ass very recently and he came to the revelation that Ponyboy was fucking sex-on-legs about 5 minutes after that _._ It took an alarmingly short amount of time to end up with the kid on his knees and driving Steve out of his god-damned mind.

“No, actually,” replies Steve, startled by his own honesty. “Between you and me, I think you’re prettier.”

Ponyboy snorts incredulously but Steve sees a faint blush dusting his cheeks before he sinks down his cock and swallows, sending Steve’s eyes rolling back in his head. He can’t help the way his hips buck or the way he moans when Ponyboy pins him with a surprisingly strong forearm as he really gets down to it. If Steve thought Ponyboy was good-lookin’ before, with that long rust-coloured hair and casual slouch, it’s got nothing on the view of him now, lips stretched tight around the head of Steve’s cock, sinking down and swallowing tantalisingly slowly even after that first quick stroke that had it hitting the back of his throat.

Steve grips the sun-warmed metal on the hood of his car so tightly that a scab on his knuckle splits and a little blood dribbles from it.

“Ponyboy,” he gasps, giving his hair a tug. Glory, if he doesn’t somehow look even better with that greased hair all messed up.

He pops off the head with a quick lick that makes Steve jump, his lips bright red and his voice already hoarse. “What?” he snaps, disgruntled.

“Jerk yourself off.”

“What? Why? Don’t wanna return the favour?”

“Fuck, kid, it ain’t that,” Steve manages to groan, desperately craving Pony’s mouth again. “But I swear, if we stay out here any longer we’re gonna get caught for sure.”

“That don’t get you goin’?” Pony teases, circling the base of his cock with his thumb and forefinger. 

Steve groans again. “You’re crazy, Ponyboy, out of your fuckin’ mind. And no, I don’t want Soda to come back n’ find me fuckin’ his baby brother’s mouth—he’d rip my dick off for sure.”

To be honest, Steve isn’t even sure why they’re doing this out here when there’s a perfectly good house, and probably a perfectly good bed, about 5 feet away. They’re parked by the side of the Curtis house, between two houses, and it’s hidden enough that people won’t see them from the street unless they came pretty close, or looked out of the living room window. Steve dearly hopes that Two-Bit’s not crashing on the couch or something.

Ponyboy snorts and grins again, that lewd smile that Steve never pictured on his face sending heat coiling in his stomach. “Suit yourself, Stevie. But c’mon, what the hell do I get out of jerking off?”

“I ain’t suggesting that’s all you do,” says Steve, and it’s his turn to bite his lip and drag his gaze over Ponyboy seductively, easy in his element. He leans backwards, ignoring the slight burn from the hot hood of the car on his forearm and cocks his hip—his dick’s still standing straight up, leaving wet patches of pre-come and spit on the bottom of his shirt. “How about you jerk yourself off and get yourself close, doll. Then once I’m finished with that cute mouth of yours, I’ll let you bend me over the hood of this car, huh? Let you fuck between my legs and get them all dirty?”

Ponyboy honest-to-god growls, and Steve would’ve laughed if he wasn’t so goddamned horny. He hauls himself to his feet in one smooth movement and Steve gasps, knees giving as Ponyboy presses him over the hood of the car and kisses him thoroughly, tongue sweeping his roughly while his hand works between them to start undoing the buttons on Steve’s shirt. He makes an impatient noise against his mouth when he fumbles and Steve laughs a little and nips at his lower lip.

“I ain’t no psychic, kid. You gonna say yes?”

“ _Fuck,_ yes. You’d best fuckin’ believe that I’ve wanted you bent over this damned car for too damn long,” he manages to groan, between hasty kisses as he drags his hands up Steve’s sides.

“You kinky sonofabitch,” snorts Steve, grinning against his mouth but he can’t resist adding, “If you’re good, next time I might even let you take me in the back seat and we’ll see if you can make me scream.”

Ponyboy swears colourfully, eyes glazed over, and reaches between them to rub a thumb against the head of Steve’s cock, still leaning over him so close that their lips just bump together when they breathe. Steve’s back is beginning to hurt from all the leaning backwards—Ponyboy’s still a good half an inch shorter, and normally, Steve’s not the one being bent over the hood of a car. While winding Ponyboy up is fun and all, not to mention arousing as fuck, his dick really wants more attention.

“You like me talkin’ dirty, huh?”

“I—Christ, yeah.”

“Well too fuckin’ bad. Nobody’s getting off if we stay out here much longer so you’d better get down there and open that mouth if you want it at all today.”

Ponyboy scowls but starts his trail back downwards, licking at hollow at the bottom on his neck and stopping to tongue a nipple and Steve wonders where the hell the kid got all the experience—he’s never once seen Pony bring someone home, and Steve would have known if he had because Darry and Soda would’ve bitched about it for days. Actually, that’s likely one of the main reasons Steve’s got no idea about any of the kid’s adventures—his overprotective older brothers.

“Do you take all the guys you bring home against their cars? You ever take a Socy guy and mess up his paintwork a little?”

“Nah,” Ponyboy says, voice muffled against Steve’s stomach. Steve gives a little hiss when his tongue darts out against his bellybutton and blows—it’s startlingly cold in the muggy summer air. “Just you. Normally it’s in locker rooms.”

“Glory, kid, you really do have a thing for public places, huh?”

“Nah that’s just ‘cos it’s convenient, you know?” he nips at Steve’s hip, shrugging his shirt open. “But when I saw you and this fuckin’ Chevy, and you were so fuckin’ annoying about it, I’d imagine you moaning like a bitch, bent over the gear shift, ass-up—”

Steve groans as Pony peels himself away, pops the button of his jeans and shimmies them just below his ass, and his cock springs straight up, already flushed and fully hard. He’s _big,_ and Steve ought to know because he’s seen a fair few cocks in his life.

“Gee, baby Curtis, did I pick you up from a cheap whore-house? Where the hell is your underwear?”

“Funny guy, Steve,” Ponyboy just grins and gives himself two hard strokes, lithe muscle in his forearm rippling a little when he finishes each off with a twist at the head. He spreads his legs obscenely wide, crouching on his toes with his knees on the ground and his left hand tossed behind him for support and _goddammit_ he knows exactly what he’s doing to Steve when the lean muscles on his chest and stomach ripple as he arches his back.

And before Steve can really take it all in, he’s leaning forwards and sinking straight back down without preamble—Steve’s hand flies down to grip his face and get a good look at where his whole length is disappearing past those lips and down that throat. Ponyboy’s eyelashes are fluttering against his cheekbones and his moans shoot straight up Steve’s spine as the kid uses his other hand to jerk himself off, hard. He can fucking _feel_ himself moving through Ponyboy’s cheek and glory, if that’s not high up on the fucking filthiest things Steve’s ever seen in his life—

“Shit,” he gasps, jerking his hips forwards experimentally. Ponyboy just takes it, dropping the hand that’s on his hip to thumb his balls, forefinger pressing down on his perineum. Steve moves in small thrusts, careful not to hurt him as he fucks into his mouth and _shit—_ it’s getting sloppy; Steve’s movements are clumsy and Pony’s jaw is completely spit-slick, but somehow the kid’s still got the coordination to suck and lick, flick his tongue over the underside of his cock in a way that make Steve’s knees feel dangerously close to giving out. And still, his hand is frantic on his own cock.

Steve’s nearly asks exactly how many dicks this kid has sucked because it might be none of his business but he’s genuinely curious—how? But he’s feeling kind of light-headed and the hot pleasure around his groin is getting pretty fuckin’ intense by now.

“Pony—glory, Pony, I’m close— _Christ_.”

He moans and Steve can’t help grabbing a hold of a handful of red hair when he starts coming in spurts down the kid’s throat.

“Shit, kid—that was—”

“Shut the hell up,” says Ponyboy, standing up to kiss around his mouth again, voice all breathy as he starts grinding up against Steve’s thigh. “Turn around? Please?”

“Damn, kid, someone sounds like a desperate little broad,” Steve teases, but spits on his palm anyway and drags it over Pony's cock as makeshift lube. He looks too out of it to do anything much in retaliation except bite at Steve’s bottom lip particularly hard.

He turns around and braces his forearms on the hood of the Chevy, pressing his thighs tightly together and shuddering when Pony grinds against his ass cheeks and groans low. Sure, he’s just come, but Steve can definitely see himself getting fucked into the hood of this car in the not-too-distant future—he wonders if Pony’s just as good at fucking as giving head.

“Shit,” Ponyboy groans into his shoulder, movements getting erratic as he slides between Steve’s thighs.

“C’mon, kid, you gonna come? Dirty up my thighs and make me walk around with spunk drying on ‘em until I get home?”

Steve, still dizzy from his orgasm and Pony’s firm weight behind him, doesn’t know what in fresh hell’s coming out of his mouth but if the cut-off little moans coming from behind him are anything to go by, he’s doing pretty damn good.

“Yeah, that’s it—oh. Shit.”

Suddenly, Steve freezes. “Get in the car Ponyboy, right now.”

Steve’s fumbling with the car doors and the ignition in a second because yep, there’s no mistaking it. That’s the sound of the Curtis Ford coming down the lane. Ponyboy curses him to fresh hell as Steve steps on the gas, but there’s no way he’s risking Darry’s wrath, not today—

“You _asshole,_ ” Pony gripes, struggling to shove his still-hard cock back into his pants as Steve floors it down the street.

Steve just grins and shrugs, unabashed in his state of half-dress. “I wouldn’t bother putting that away, if I were you.”

“What? Why? You expect me to jerk off in the front seat or something?”

“Nah,” he says, cheerfully. “But I’ve got lube in the cupholder, kid. I remember you sayin’ something about getting me ass up over the gear shift?”

He’s rewarded by Ponyboy swearing so bad that Steve’s confident that if he ends up in hell for this, at least he’ll have company.

**Author's Note:**

> can you tell i couldn't be arsed to finish?
> 
> also if you liked it drop some kudos,, 
> 
> thanks for reading lol


End file.
